Nicholas Engdahl shucks corn into the compost at his house in Essex Wednesday, September 1, 2010. / IAN THOMAS JANSEN-LONNQUIST, for the Free Press

Written by

Nicholas Engdahl

Having recently moved back to my home state of Vermont after more than 30 years out West, I have become a fast, dedicated, passionate and possibly over-eager convert to recycling, reusing, donating, composting, localvoring and all things green and sustainable.

Although these things are not nearly so prevalent in other parts of the country, they seem to permeate all aspects of my life here in the Green Mountain State, from where I shop to what I eat to how I approach the children in the school where I now teach. They also fill me with hope that Vermont’s green-living habits and skills will, through the next generation of Vermonters, spread to the rest of our country.

I believe that Vermont's green approach to the environment could serve as a model for other states and for the world at large. While many of us coming from other areas are not accustomed to such earth friendly practices, it is hard to argue with a lifestyle that leaves such a gentle footprint on our land. Indeed, our large country could learn a great deal from our small state.

On arrival in Vermont, we settled into the family home in Essex, which had been vacant for some two years yet held more than 60 years worth of memories — along with old furniture, trash, building supplies, frozen and canned goods, memorabilia and enough Christmas paraphernalia to stock the North Pole for a generation.

We began going through all this without a clue, leaving more than 10 bags a week of unsorted “trash.” We soon discovered the wonder of donations to Goodwill, the ReStore and ReBuild programs of ReSource, the Burlington Food Bank, hospitals and nursing homes, even the St. Micheal’s College Theater Department (hats from the ¤’40s and vintage phones, anyone?). We found the pleasure of giving to our new community and cleaning out a basement, garage and countless closets and boxes in the process.

Next, we learned the tasks of day-to-day living in a truly “green” state. We learned to sort our refuse and found how much simpler — and cheaper! — it is to have all of our blue bins of cardboard, paper, plastic, etc., taken away free and to pay only for one small bag of “true” trash a week. I started making my own trips to the dump to learn more about what I could and couldn’t get rid of free. As I continued to plow through the cubby holes of the house, discovering paints and varnishes and other such materials, I made free hazardous-materials disposal day at the Essex dump a cause for celebration. Indeed, by this point, I had become friends with most of the employees — though most of my other friends were a little disturbed by my excitement with “hazmat day.”

At first, composting sounded a little, well, gross. Having a pail filled with food bits and discarded peels sounded pretty unappetizing. We had visions of flies circling our pail and an ungodly stench. But as we discovered, flies have left us alone (though ants have taken up residence), and the only smell is of the coffee grounds and fruit peels.

We’ve also found that a daily dose of egg shells and coffee grounds have made our gardens the envy of the neighborhood. It also became apparent that much of what we threw away actually not only was consumable, but added flavor and fiber. Who knew peels and skins could taste so good?

We’ve actually revisited our entire approach to shopping, eating and going out for meals. In the Rocky Mountain West, the idea of healthy food choices conjured images of plain tofu over brown rice with a side of vegan “cheese” (which somehow seems sacrilegious in Cabot country). What we’ve discovered is that organic, sustainable, locally grown food is fresher, better tasting and contributes directly to our local economy.

We’ve become regulars at the Essex Junction Farmers Market, the Colchester roadside produce stands and visitors to our neighbors’ gardens. There is something very primal about eating an ear of corn at a table next to the field it was picked from an hour before, talking with the farmer who grew it and boiled it for you.

That’s not to say we’re 100 percent converts. Old habits die hard, and some tastes will forever be a bit more “big box” and a bit less healthy. Although we do try to be “localvores” — at first I thought this was some kind of neighborhood version of the lake monster Champ — I have to admit I still prefer Starbucks to Green Mountain Coffee Roasters. I also have an unhealthy relationship with the oddly colored and overly processed yet delicious queso sauce at Moe’s Southwest Grill. I chalk it up to my Mexican food withdrawal after the plethora of Mexican places in my old home state of Colorado and the dearth of Tex Mex in Vermont.

This earth-friendly approach to living has even become a part of my professional life. I’ve been hired by a small, private school in Williston and have been struck by how this “green” approach to life manifests itself in the school. With the adjacent wetlands, the focus on holistic learning and intuitive thinking, and the daily lesson that this is our world and we better respect and take care of it, this school to me is quintessential Vermont.

As I look at the young faces, I am filled with hope and pride that we are nurturing a new generation of environmentally aware, altruistically thinking and globally connected Vermonters.

Nicholas Engdahl has spent more than 25 years in education, teaching everyone from kindergartners to graduate students, French and Spanish to world literature and methodology. Returning to Vermont after more than 30 years in Colorado and California, Nick, who lives in Essex Junction with his husband, Tim, teaches at the Bellwether School in Williston. They are returning to work after taking their first summer off in years, a summer spent swimming, hiking, biking and working in their garden. Contact Nicholas Engdahl at nicholasengdahl@yahoo.com.